


Inexorable

by ratherbiased



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Like lots of it, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Some suicidal thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, but maybe it's not actually unrequited, dont worry, maybe smut? probably, probably lots of deep thoughts, the first chapter seems dark but i promise it won't be like that all along, this will have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbiased/pseuds/ratherbiased
Summary: in·ex·o·ra·ble/ˌinˈeksərəb(ə)l/adjectiveimpossible to stop or prevent."the seemingly inexorable march of new technology"or the fic i just wrote to vent about my deepest, darkest thoughts. also because i'm jjp trash





	1. The Fall

Two years ago, Jinyoung would’ve never thought he would end up here. He never could have guessed that things would end this way, that he would have no choice but to leave. It was a conscious decision.

He was stuck on the edge. Behind him was safety, and in front of him was freedom. It was a tough choice to make, Jinyoung was aware of that; he had been gambling with the thought of following his instincts and letting it at go, but after years of contemplating liberty, he found himself ensnared within safety’s claws; in appearance, safety seemed like the right choice, but behind that perfect exterior hid thousands of monstrosities that Jinyoung couldn’t even muster the courage to bear, because safety came hand in hand with disappointment, despair, sadness and anger. Years ago, Jinyoung couldn’t find the courage to escape such atrocities because of the overwhelming grasp of safety, but after years of staying within reach of it, Jinyoung couldn’t bear to stay there, stuck between a life of misery and a release, a mere decision being the only thing that could possibly let him escape from the worst. Call him coward all you want; Jinyoung thought the cowards were the ones who can’t gather the braveness to admit that life just isn’t worth living, and to leave it all behind.

For a mere second, he hesitated. He hesitated because as he looked down into the seemingly never-ending abyss of grey mist, he felt like he was seeing his failures, and the reality of his current situation his him like a brick; he was about to put an end to this, and if he took the fall, he could never turn back, could never tell his mom he loves her, could never profess his platonic love to his best friend after a night out and could never prove to everyone that he was better than them at something by beating them. He almost turned back and ran away from the edge of the cement roof.

The cold wind was hitting his face with such force, Jinyoung felt like maybe a god that he didn’t even believe in was trying to tell him not to jump, not to give up on everything now. Like it wasn’t a good moment.

But the thing is, Jinyoung couldn’t figure out whether it was the wrong moment because the perfect opportunity for his end had already passed, taken away from him by strong, gushing winds, or if it had yet to come; and Jinyoung couldn’t bear the thought of living anymore. He knew that if he didn’t do it now, if he didn’t just take the fall, he would never have the courage to do it again.

So, as the wind was slapping his face like a friend who was trying to tell him to wake up from his daze, to realise the impact of his imminent actions and to back down, take a small step back and jump right into safety’s comforting arms again, Jinyoung closed his eyes and slowly lifted a foot from the rooftop’s cement flooring, knowing that he didn’t have to hurry his death; it would surely come today, in some way or another. No one was looking for him, he had not given anyone hints as to what he was planning to do. He was alone, and he would stay alone forever. He placed his foot in front of his body, eyes still closed, the light coming from the sun that was covered up by a flurry of grey clouds painting the back of his eyelids a slight tint of red that Jinyoung wished to imprint into his brain, so it could stay there until his end. It was the only comfort he would find away from the safety; more often than not, Jinyoung found himself closing his eyes to try to escape from the bluntness of his pain, and he was more than acquainted with the shade that the sun created as it pressed against his closed eyes. _That comfort would stay with him forever_ , he thought, right foot still in front of him, hanging limply above the void that was waiting for him down below this fifty-something story building. One step forward, one little push of the wind, a mere forward balancing of his equilibrium, and he would be gone, dead to himself and to the world, although he arguably already was. Jinyoung would be a simple casualty, a topic for people to talk about for a few days, maybe a few weeks with a bit of luck – although the world luck could be changed to something like grief, depending on the perspective – but Jinyoung would inevitably be gone, like a whisper shared between two giggling children in the park, carried away into nothingness by the inescapable force that is the wind.

His mom would cry, sure. His dad, Jinyoung could not tell; he had not seen him cry once, not even when his own mother died when the boy was only six years of age. His sisters would weep, and his grandparents would grieve. But in the end, the wound would heal and transform into a mere scar that anyone could bear, that everyone has to bear. Jinyoung would stay in their minds, tucked away into a corner that would be getting farther and farther away from their conscious as the years would tick by, and eventually, he would be completely gone, erased from everyone’s memories as his own entourage would pass away, legacies that would learn about Jinyoung’s existence would forget about him after hours, his presence being unknown to them.

Jinyoung exhaled a shaky breath, the finality of his gesture still being a little too much to bear, but it was quickly overcome by the desire for a sweet escape. He pressed his eyes together even more firmly, the colour of his inner eyelids transitioning from a light red to a darker, richer auburn, the tint reminding him of blood.

Eyes tightly wound shut, Jinyoung let the wind carry his body forward.

And then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo I kinda just wrote this because I was feeling down and needed to let my feelings out. And now I'm kinda enthusiastic about this story.  
> Enjoy!


	2. The Beginning

_Two years before – The Beginning_

Sitting back in his white plastic chair, Jinyoung huffed out a curt breath of relief. He had just deleted yet another draft of the essay that had been occupying most of his thoughts in the past two weeks, the boy seemingly never satisfied with the fruit of his own writing, preferring to read the latest book he had borrowed from the library instead. This time, it was _The Giver_ , a story about a utopia of blacks and whites that Jinyoung had found in the library while scouring the shelves for a new book to read although he was well aware that he had little time to allow himself to dedicate to reading, especially if it was a good one.

The story had been both a blessing and a curse; while Jinyoung absolutely devoured the novel, enthralled in the author’s seemingly flawless and fascinating writing, the book kept distracting him where it lay on the corner of his nightstand, daring him to close his laptop where the bright white light of his blank word document was nearly blinding him in the darkness of his bedroom, in favor of reading through his new trouvaille. Although Jinyoung wasn’t usually one to procrastinate, his despair became more and more evident as he finally gave up on his homework and read the whole book in one sitting, and fell asleep shortly thereafter. He definitely regretted not continuing his essay the next morning, but he found comfort in the fact that he had slept well, his soft blankets keeping him warm all night long and Jonas’ passionate story brewing in his mind, so he could stay awake that night until almost whatever hour he wished to finish writing his essay that was due the following day.

They were well into the semester, exams were flying by left and right and assignments steadily piled up. Jinyoung hardly kept up with all the work, and his social life, although it had never really been thriving as some other people he knows, suffered greatly from the sheer amount of schoolwork. As an introvert, Jinyoung definitely preferred being alone to being caught amongst a crowd or a large group of friends – or rather acquaintances, seeing as he knows he only has a few close friends – but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t get lonely when he was spending all of his spare time in the library, either studying or completing an assignment. He couldn’t wait until the end of the semester so he could spend time with his friends outside of school again.

High school wasn’t so hard for Jinyoung; he was a naturally smart student, maybe more book smart than actually intelligent, but he was satisfied with the grades he got and it often made him feel more confident in his abilities. He was naturally gifted with languages, and having mastered Korean and English at a fairly young age, Jinyoung soon found himself taking Japanese classes at the start of middle school, yearning to learn a new language. Although he had been leaning the language for a few years, it was harder than it looks; there were so many things to remember, and although Jinyoung would consider himself to have a better-than-average memory, he still struggled with learning all the subtleties by heart, but he could definitely manage to survive in Japan if he was left alone there – a scenario that was unlikely to happen, but Jinyoung liked to compare his language skills to it so he knew he was good enough to communicate with native-speakers.

He had also been trying to learn French, but that proved to be harder than he would’ve deemed it at first glance; there were barely any French classes or even private teachers available in Korea, so apart from the grammar and vocabulary books his parents had given to him as a Christmas gift, he still had a hard time distinguishing various words and the gender of words. Jinyoung almost wished he had learned to speak French in his childhood instead of English, seeing as he considered it much harder than the latter.

After several minutes of staying in bed, hoping for time to somehow turn back and let him have a few more minutes to bask in the warmth of his comfortable bed, Jinyoung finally got up to face a new day at school. He pulled on the first clean outfit he could find in the mess of his bedroom – he used to pride himself with his ability to keep a clean room, but in recent years, the only thing that kept Jinyoung from being unable to see his floor was the fact that he knew his mother would yell at him if he didn’t clean – and brushed his teeth, not bothering to brush and style his hair, as it usually stayed fairly smooth, a feat that, unknowingly, many people envied him for. He slipped out of his house, yelling a goodbye to his mother who would be leaving for work soon, and started walking to his school, anticipating the imminent arrival of one of his close friends who lived down the street from him, and with whom Jinyoung walked to school with almost every morning.

It was well into October, and the South Korean weather was growing steadily colder, obligating passersby to wear thicker coats and, occasionally, scarves and gloves. Jinyoung had his own thick jacket on, which was actually a winter coat. His mother often worried about him whenever he insisted not to wear warm clothes when the weather was getting colder, so although he didn’t like being too hot, he preferred it over catching a cold and leaving his mom worried over his health.

His thoughts of the cold weather escaped his mind as his friend Wonpil caught up to him, waving to Jinyoung as a greeting, to which Jinyoung waved back. They exchanged a few words, mostly about school, and soon, they reached the building and walked to their lockers, which were thankfully relatively close to each other – they were separated by maybe five or six people, so they were still close enough to talk while they arrived if there was nobody between them – together.

The day carried on as any other. Jinyoung went to his classes, math, Korean, science, English and history all mingling in his mind to the point where he could barely distinguish whether the new derivation techniques he had learned that day were taught to him in math or history class. His mind was elsewhere, fingers aching to write his English analysis of a short text that he had been pushing back and rewrote what felt like a thousand times to get it over with.

He spent lunch with his only three friends as usual – friends he had gotten close to over the years, and with which he had spent all of his school days with, some even from kindergarten up until then. Although Jinyoung remained very close to Wonpil, Jinyoung had slightly grown apart from his other friends in past years, because contrarily to Jinyoung, the three of his friends liked to party and have fun – some more than others – while Jinyoung preferred staying home with a book, finding more comfort in the story of fictional characters than in the figurative writing of his own story, although Jinyoung would strongly disagree with this statement; just because he was an introvert didn’t mean that his life was dull, it was simply different from an extrovert’s.

(Jinyoung had once found a study that said that two thirds of the Earth’s population were extroverts; the rest of that proportion were introverts and ambiverts. Conclusively, we live in a world of extroverts, and introverts have to further suffer because of the constant social and biological need to interact with other humans, bolstered by the pressure of our society’s standards.)

When he got home after walking – or rather, running – through the rain along with Wonpil, drenched and cold, he quickly removed his boots and his winter jacket, nearly running to the washing room to hang it up on the white plastic rack that his mom used to dry clean clothes that couldn’t handle a trip in the dryer, so that his outdoor clothes could dry more quickly and without making too big of a mess. When he yelled his mom’s name and got no response, he ran back to the kitchen and, after grabbing his backpack and a packet of dried seaweed to munch on, he made his way to his room to start again on his essay. Jinyoung knew that he’d have enough time to write it without rushing it if he was willing to give up a few hours of sleep, so he started typing up a new version of the work he had already written a dozen times beforehand.

Approximately four and a half hours later, Jinyoung was already about three quarters through the essay – it wasn’t proofread yet, but he was confident enough in his writing skills that he knew it wouldn’t take him much time to read through it for possible grammatical errors and sentence incoherencies before printing it out. His mother, Seohee, called him from the dining room to alert him that dinner was ready – she usually didn’t come home until fairly late at night, but she was currently on paid medical leave because of a knee injury that would leave her stuck at home for at least another two weeks. Jinyoung appreciated that she stayed at home and that they could spend more time together, but as he was alone with her for dinner, his two older sisters away at university and working both in Seoul and his father still not home from work, he subconsciously wished that he could be alone at home instead. Not that he didn’t enjoy his mother’s company or her food, but he had an essay to write and he had a feeling when he waltzed into the kitchen that, during dinner, she would not let his thoughts wander to how he could word his conclusion on the text analysis.

“I made japchae,” his mom announced, a slightly proud smile gracing her aging features. She grabbed both plates that were filled with the delicious meal and started walking to the dining room, but Jinyoung stopped her to steal them from her hands. Just because he preferred the silence over his mom’s rambling and prodding didn’t mean that he would let her injure herself even more than she was now.

Jinyoung set down the plates on opposite sides of the table. “Thank you, mom,” he smiled his usual _good son_ smile and sat down after helping his mother do so, ensuring that she wouldn’t have to feel any pain while bending her knee to accommodate to the chair’s height.

They were a few minutes into the meal and his mom had yet to utter a word. Just as Jinyoung was beginning to think that he might escape the evening meal unscathed, his mom piped up, “how’s school?”

Jinyoung held in a sigh, knowing that she would not find any other subject to talk about. He loved his mom, truly, with all of his heart, but oh, what he wouldn’t give to get her to pay attention to Jinyoung’s true interests rather than try to force her own upon him. “It’s good, mom. Just as usual.”

“Nothing new?” she inquired, and Jinyoung wondered whether she had heard something from his friends’ parents or something, but he could not recall any action that he did that would require this amount of prodding about school. “New people, new friends? New projects?”

The young man’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he quickly eased his expression, not wanting his mother to worry about him or to think that he was hiding anything from her – although he had to say he was hiding some things from her, of course, as any respectful teenager does. “There’s really nothing new, mom,” he replied after swallowing his mouthful of japchae. “I don’t really get what you’re trying to get out of me.”

This time, she frowned, and Jinyoung almost regretted uttering those last words. “I’m not trying to get anything out of you, son. I just want to talk to you, I want to know how your life is going.”

Jinyoung bit back an _if you really wanted to know how I’m doing, you would be asking different questions_ , before attempting to take one last bite of his meal and glancing down at his empty dish as the only sound he heard was of the chopsticks scraping the bottom of his plate. “It’s okay.”

His mom opened her mouth to reply, but closed it right when Jinyoung looked up with an inquisitive look in his eyes. He hated that this was what their relationship had become. He hated that he wasn’t as close to his mom anymore, that he couldn’t confess his biggest thoughts and concerns to her and that their conversations were strained, as if the both of them were holding back in order to protect the other’s feelings, not realising that this whole avoiding of the elephant in the room was only making matters worse.

As he was about to push his chair back and excuse himself from the table, bowl in hand, his mom started talking again. “College applications are pretty soon.”

Jinyoung resisted the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. He knew this conversation would come up one day, yet he was still dreading it, wondering whether it was too late to bolt to his room to finish his essay, or maybe just to sleep it all off. “I know, mom.” _You don’t need to talk about it too, it only stresses me out more_ , he held back from saying. He knew expressing those thoughts wouldn’t help the situation in any way. “But for now, I have an essay to finish, so I can _actually_ _get_ _into_ college.”

His mother shot him a slightly panicked glance, as if she wasn’t expecting that response, before shooting her eyes back down to the table. “If you’ll excuse me,” the man said, picking his bowl back up from the wooden surface and getting up, careful not to let his chair grate the floor too much. Unlike usual, he skipped washing his bowl, opting to merely deposit it into the stained kitchen sink and bolted to his room before his mother could protest. He felt a bit guilty about nearly lashing out at his mom, but he swallowed the feeling back down before it could consume him and prevent him from finishing to write his English essay properly.

He typed up a few words before realising that what he had written made little to no sense, and that he was straying from the main object of his homework. He erased the last few sentences and started again.

Jinyoung spent the next hour caught in a cycle of writing, re-reading, erasing, and starting again. He finally realised that he would definitely get nothing done if this kept going, so he shuffled out of his room and down the hall to find his mom sitting on the couch in the living room, television blaring some random drama that he knew his mom was a sucker for – and, truth be told, he liked them just as much. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly wondered what exactly he was sorry for, but figured that now that he had expressed his thoughts, he might as well go with the flow instead of trying to back out. “I didn’t mean to talk to you that way, mom. I really do have an essay to finish, but I can’t concentrate now, because I can’t get my wrong attitude towards you out of my mind.”

His mom had been looking at him with a look that he couldn’t decipher, because Jinyoung was honestly never really good at reading other people’s facial expressions and body language, but he figured it had to be something like pity or remorse. She gestured for him to come closer, whispering “come here.”

He joined his mom on the couch for a good half hour, indulging in the familiar warmth of her embrace for as long as he could allow himself to if he wanted to pass his English class. “I love you, mom,” he ended up saying. He knew he didn’t say it nearly enough, and those three words had never been easy for him to say, but they were true, and he wanted to comfort his mom, to reassure her that his earlier demeanor was merely a result of fatigue.

Jinyoung soon went back to his room and finished writing his essay in two hours. He made sure to proofread it quickly, although he could never be sure that his brain was still effective after hours of working on this text.

As he went to bed at a time he didn’t dare to confirm, his eyes were closed and his body was tired, but he couldn’t keep his mind from racing, thoughts swimming around carelessly, taunting him to get back up and just do something. He sighed, tossing and turning, before getting up to get a glass of water in the kitchen. He didn’t see either of his parents during his trip, so he assumed that the both of them were asleep, Jinyoung’s father having arrived during the second to last hour of finishing his essay.

The thought that both of his parents were asleep didn’t help to ease his mind. Why was he still awake? Why couldn’t he sleep, like a normal person would? After gathering some courage, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table, nearly unnoticeably wincing at angry red light glaring at him.

3:28 a.m.

He sighed again, gulping down the rest of his glass of water, and turned his back to his alarm clock. He never liked having one in his room, preferring the pitch black of the night to leaving a light on, but his mother had insisted it was important for him to have one, since he was still in school and needed to make sure he woke up on time every day, although Jinyoung had a perfectly working phone that would do the job for him. He wouldn’t dare to disobey his mom, though. Not for fear of being scolded, but rather for fear of disappointing her. His mom was his role model; he knew she wasn’t a perfect person, but she was the one who had nearly singlehandedly raised him and both his sisters, his father absent during most of his childhood and teenage years, which were still ongoing, to provide for their family. He supposed both roles were important, but the loving relationship that the children had with their mother could not even begin to compare with the one with their father, a strained relationship filled with questions about school and work and awkward pats on the back, comfort scarcely being an easy feat for a father of three. Jinyoung guessed that his relationship with his mom may not be so different from the one with his dad now, both of them being focused on Jinyoung’s future rather than his present wellbeing.

Jinyoung’s thoughts continued to race for a little more, until exhaustion took over and he couldn’t help but succumb to the sweet escape of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really proofread this, I only read some bits and pieces before posting it just now. Please do tell me if you spot any mistakes.
> 
> I honestly really like writing this story, but I feel like I only get inspiration to write anything when I'm sad, rip
> 
> also i have no idea what im doing... i feel like this story will be boring to read because im basically just writing down my saddest thoughts


	3. The Decision

_One year and nine months before_

 

Jinyoung had to apply for university soon. He was aware of it. I mean, how could he forget, when his mother was reminding him of it seemingly every minute. And now, his classmates were talking about it too. It felt as if he could not escape this decision. He knew he couldn’t, but it was such a hard choice to make.

I mean, _how are you supposed to decide the path that your whole life will take when you’re barely even considered a legal adult yet?_

Sitting in the back of his math class, alone in the far left corner, as far away from the front of the class – and thus, from all the attention of his classmates – Jinyoung thought he might never be able to make a decision. He had good grades, he was taking all of the advanced classes; the options were nearly endless. And maybe that was the problem. There were too many options, so many that he couldn’t pinpoint the one that interested him most.

The room got quieter as the teacher came in, students sitting at their respective desks in order to avoid disturbing the order that figures of authority often liked to keep. As class started, and the elder at the front of the class started enunciating new math equations and things that Jinyoung didn’t feel like bothering to try to understand for now, the young man’s thoughts wandered elsewhere. He slid his green notebook closer to the edge of his desk and proceeded to doodle random patterns of lines and curves in the hopes of drowning out the ruckus. He knew his mother wouldn’t be proud of him if she knew he was avoiding listening to his teacher merely because he didn’t feel like it, but _what did his mom care_? It’s not like she would ever know anyway.

Class seemed to pass by in a blur, Jinyoung sometimes catching onto spurts of sentences that didn’t make sense to him as it was all out of context. The bell was blaring its shrill sound as students were rushing out of the class, Jinyoung not bothering to run to get to his next class, as he would rather not get stuck into the traffic of students trampling down the halls in their haste to avoid being late. He didn’t necessarily like being late, but there was a light throbbing in his temples that he knew would soon morph into a headache if he didn’t at least try to tamp it down.

Jinyoung got to his next class, history. It was one of his favourite subjects. He’d always loved to learn new things and he found that learning about history was one of the best ways to satisfy his curiosity – temporarily of course, as Jinyoung had a thirst for knowledge that most people seem to have nowadays.

The young man made valiant efforts to listen to his teacher in order to grab onto each of her words, but the pain in his head felt like it had grown exponentially since the end of his previous class, so concentrating on the subject, although he loved it, was a hard task at that moment. Instead, he focused on a trail of eraser bits that were spread across the edges of his desk, the person who had been sitting there omitting to wipe down the evidence of erased words. He tried not to think in order to avoid worsening his pain, but that proved to be as difficult as listening to his teacher. He nearly cried out in relief when the bell finally rang, because although the sound had made him slightly cringe internally in pain, it meant he could finally go home after another long day.

He made his way to his house alone, seeing as Wonpil stayed later at school once or twice a week for band practice. Every step he took made the snow crunch under his boots. In an attempt to lighten the ache in his temples, instead of looking at his feet marching through the blindingly white snow as he usually did when walking home, Jinyoung chose to look in front of him at the winter landscapes his hometown had to offer. All of it was so familiar to him, yet it always felt like there was something missing. He couldn’t tell what it was; he might not ever be able to. Walking down the streets that he was so used to frequenting just felt like a beaten-down path that Jinyoung had to take; comfortable and easy to follow, but it was not _his_ – it didn’t allow him to see anything new, just the same old oak trees by the park and the same old bland country houses and the same old people walking and driving past.

It was definitely familiar, but at that moment, Jinyoung realised that it wasn’t enough. He needed to feel at home, and he was afraid he would never get to if he stayed here any longer. Of course, he wasn’t going to run away.

But at that moment, as the same old cars were whizzing by the same old languishing trees and the same old beige houses were towering over him and the same old neighbourhood residents were roaming the streets, Jinyoung decided that he would leave his hometown for college.

When he finally got home – because he was so absorbed in observing his surroundings, he would definitely have missed the last turn to reach his house had his feet not dragged him there automatically, almost as if he didn’t have a say in it – he carefully removed his coat, wondering whether his parents were home. His dad worked for an accounting firm situated further into the heart of the city, while their house was more in the outskirts of the city, close enough for Jinyoung to be able to walk to and from school without having to bear a three hour walk, but far enough to nearly be considered in suburbia. After recovering from her leg injury, his mom had gone back to work as a cleaning lady; she took too many contracts with both small companies and personal homes, and always overworked herself despite her children’s protests, especially during the years following the first relapse of an illness that seemed to always haunt her as well as their entire family, agonizingly hanging over their every conversation like a black cloud waiting to free its downpour onto them.

His mom didn’t have a car yet; after years of saving up, she had finally been able to buy one, but a mere few weeks after her purchase, she had gotten into an accident with a truck, thus effectively wrecking the vehicle – thankfully, other than the relatively severe wound she had gotten on her knee, she managed to get out with barely a few scratches. The other driver had left entirely unharmed, although his car apparently got one or two scrapes, which had “ruined the whole darn thing” and “completely took the paint off”.

Shaking off thoughts of both the financial and emotional pain his whole family had gone through after that accident, Jinyoung yelled both his parents name, only to be responded with a deafening silence. He often loved being alone, he loved the quiet and appreciated it with a gratefulness that was unmatched amidst Jinyoung’s own entourage. He was glad that he would finally be able to calm his racing thoughts and his throbbing headache, but deep inside, he kind of wished that he wasn’t alone in that moment. Ironically enough, the too-familiar sight of his hometown had made him feel some way that he couldn’t describe as anything other than homesick. He nearly chuckled at that; _homesick in your own hometown? That doesn’t even make sense_.

And yet, among the multiple ways he could have described the sensation, he figured nothing matched the description as well as homesickness – although Jinyoung had never really been the best at describing his own emotions and pinpointing what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. He could remember bits and pieces of his childhood, and even now, when he often felt so confused when emotions that were foreign, but not necessarily unwelcome, hit him like bricks, anticipating that Jinyoung would seamlessly catch them; however, Jinyoung’s inability to identify the feelings he would have to endure held him back from connecting with a side of him that may remain forever undiscovered.

He was always taught that whenever you felt something, you should express it with words; tell others how you are feeling to avoid conflict, whether it be with them or yourself. However, the more he grew, the more Jinyoung wondered how it was possible to write down into words the panoply of sensations that he felt daily; how could something so complex and so intense as an emotion be reduced to a mere single word? It might describe a part of what you’re feeling in a particular moment, but could one word singlehandedly express the rawness of a sensation, how could it sum up the intensity of the pain, of the joy, of the love he felt? He thought it always went beyond words. Not that he was a particularly passionate or ambitious person, but he had always found his own emotions overwhelming in a way that he thought others didn’t. Jinyoung hated having to put his feelings in a box, precise and straight to the point, because he never found words that could describe them accurately. He also hated having to show others what he was feeling, and explain why – as a young child, his mom liked to pry out of him all that he had felt during the day, squeezing everything out of him until he felt like his whole day didn’t even hold any significance anymore. With time, those sessions got him to think that emotions weren’t as special and unique as he thought they were.

A lie that Jinyoung only discovered years later, when he had admitted to his best friend in his last year of primary school that he was tired of feeling. The latter had showed him that there was nothing to be afraid of, that Jinyoung could trust him and that they could always be there for each other when emotions got too confusing to put into words.

Jinyoung also discovered months later that even the people you love and trust the most can deceive you in the simplest and easiest of ways.

On his way to his bedroom after a quick food trip to the kitchen, Jinyoung realised that, partly because of his still pounding head, he had forgotten to grab an aspirin to soothe the pain. He walked back, nearly tripping over his own two feet when he saw a piece of bright pink paper stuck to fridge with a neon yellow round magnet. He shook his head slightly, remembering to take ibuprofen first. He snatched the note off the appliance as he gulped down his water.

_Your mom and I are going on a short impromptu trip to Jeju island. We’ll call when we land. There’s kimchi and bibimbap for you in the fridge. Love, Dad._

Love, Dad? Jinyoung nearly rolled his eyes at his dad’s note, slightly surprised at the fact that his dad had really ended a note with the one word he seemed to struggle to say to Jinyoung most – giving affection was never truly his forte. Without giving it much thought, Jinyoung threw the note into the bin, not caring to keep it only to have it lying around aimlessly. He opened the fridge and saw that indeed, there were plastic containers filled with the food that his parents had left behind for him. He closed it again and walked back to his room, his schoolbag firmly hanging on his back. After dropping it onto his bed, he sauntered back into the living room, phone in hand, and sat down on the couch. He didn’t usually hang out anywhere in the house apart from his own room – he liked being alone and his parents’ company wasn’t necessarily the most relaxing – but since he would be alone at home for a few days, he figured he might as well enjoy the freedom of being able to do whatever he wished to do for the time being.

Jinyoung had plenty of homework to do, and considering the fact that he had barely listened at all in any of his classes today, he should probably be completing his schoolwork. Nevertheless, he used his headache that didn’t really hurt anymore in order to avoid his duties and watch random videos on YouTube. When he was younger, Jinyoung used to like reading a lot – he could’ve spent days on end just to read, had it not been for school – but nowadays, he often preferred watching videos, dramas or even read fanfiction online. Of course he enjoyed these activities, but he kind of missed the days when nothing was as interesting as the books he read.

After about three (or four?) hours of aimlessly roaming around on the Internet, Jinyoung decided to finally get up and grabbed himself a portion of his mom’s bibimbap from the fridge. He ate in silence, apart from the Buzzfeed Unsolved video playing on his phone in front of him. Ever since he discovered the wonders of the net in middle school, Jinyoung had always liked watching Ryan and Shane kid around while relaying stories of murders and hauntings, and although it kept him from sleeping as much as he’d need sometimes, Jinyoung appreciated the web series too much to stop watching it.

A bowl of bibimbap later, Jinyoung put his empty plate in the sink, not having the will to wash it now, and went to his room. It was already nine in the evening, and at that exact moment, Jinyoung wished he wasn’t home alone. Maybe he didn’t need his parents’ presence, maybe he didn’t need to hear them yell as they fought over meaningless things; however, he felt like there actually _was_ something he needed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. _Wonpil?_ No, Jinyoung had spent all day with Wonpil at school, and he knew his best friend was busy. _Maybe his sisters?_ Yeah, maybe. Although he had always been pretty close to them, they had always been closer to each other; he was just their little brother, and he hadn’t seen either of them since Christmas, which was less than a month ago. He didn’t really miss them yet.  They picked on him enough in two weeks for it to make up for the many months that they weren’t home. Maybe a pet? Jinyoung had never been allowed to have pets, since his mother was allergic to basically any pet hair, and his sisters didn’t want to have pets like lizards and birds in the house, because in their opinion, they were either too noisy or too scary. Jinyoung wouldn’t have minded, but he had always wanted to get a cat or a dog. He felt like no other animals could give you the love that these two can give, and although cats are often characterized as aloof and rude, Jinyoung believed that they simply had a different way of showing their love.

Maybe that’s what was missing. A cat. Jinyoung thought of soft fur and little pink noses and slit-like, sharp eyes. He thought of comfortable hugs and purring sound and… a face flashed into his mind. A bright grin and eyes disappearing behind a smile. Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he shook his head, willing himself to get rid of the thought that had just popped into his head.

He then decided that he didn’t miss anyone. He didn’t want a cat. He only wanted to be left alone. Frustrated, Jinyoung took out his homework and proceeded to bury himself into his chemistry book, effectively catching up on the principles he had missed while his mind was elsewhere earlier in the day after a little over an hour of restless studying and practice.

After he had completed the entirety of the work he had to do until the next class, he decided to go to sleep. This day had been long enough. He didn’t need to let himself think about anything other than school, because that was what’s really important for him right now. He only needed to think about his future, and what program he would choose at university.

A few days later, Jinyoung came home from school to see his dad’s car in the driveway, which was quite unusual, since his dad always worked late. Once he remembered that his parents weren’t even supposed to be in this town, Jinyoung bid Wonpil goodbye and walked alone towards his own home. He opened the door to his house to find the hallway to his room crowded with bags and luggage. “Hi Jinyoung,” his mom greeted from the kitchen, where the aroma of delicious home-cooked food wafted from. “Your father and I are back.”

“I can see that,” Jinyoung merely replied, and paused. “How was your trip?”

“It was good,” Seohee replied, a smile plastered on her aging face. “Your dad really surprised me with this, you know. I didn’t even know where he was taking me.”

“Good for you,” Jinyoung smiled his usual fake smile and bolted to his room once again, his schoolbag in hand.

Once he entered the peace of his own personal space, Jinyoung sighed. He wasn’t necessarily deceived that his parents were home so soon, but… he really wished they would’ve come home later in the week. He took his math book out of his backpack and, after procrastinating for about an hour, finally decided to start on his work. He wasn’t that late in his work, but he definitely had some catching up to do, since the last few days had been worryingly hectic for him – although he was living by himself and he could enjoy all of the silence he wanted, his mind was incessantly racing, and he could not find the reason for this endless frenzy. For once, he felt like the silence wasn’t as comforting as it usually was – he felt like he was drowning in it, and not in a good way.

An hour into his math homework, a knock on his door interrupted his productivity streak. His mom’s soft voice rang, “dinner’s ready, come eat with me and your dad.”

Jinyoung sighed, knowing there was no way he could avoid this; he didn’t loathe family dinners, but they habitually weren’t the most fun, since they often ended either in yelling or in complete silence. Jinyoung may like silence, but when he was with his parents, it was only awkward. Nonetheless, he closed his book and put his things away.

The dinner table was already set up, Jinyoung’s plate already in place at the only seat left. He sat down carefully and briefly looked at his dad to try to gauge his mood. He didn’t seem particularly happy, but he didn’t seem angry either, so he guessed that was as good as it’d get.

Jinyoung held his tongue as both his parents conversed about work matters that he didn’t understand much about, but after merely a few minutes, Jinyoung was nearly done eating. He wondered if his parents would let him go back to his room without questioning him about his schoolwork or anything of the sort, but it turns out that as always, he was out of luck.

“Jinyoung,” his dad suddenly turned to him, voice stern, after a beat of silence. “Have you decided what you’re going to study at college?”

His mom looked at her son inquisitively, as if she was interested in his answer too. “No,” Jinyoung simply replied. “I don’t know.”

“You know the deadline for applications for the next semester is soon, right?” his dad prodded again. “You should make a choice before then, or else you might not get into any college at all.”

“I know all that, Dad,” Jinyoung said, holding back a curse. He hated discussing those subjects, but he knew lashing out at either of his parents wouldn’t help. “I just don’t know what to do…”

His dad sighed before replying, “do what you love, Jinyoung.”

His mom shot a glance at her spouse, her expression betraying her surprise at his words. “Of course you should do what you love. But what you love isn’t always going to be easy.”

Jinyoung let her words hang in the air, too scared to ask her their meaning, and merely nodded. By then, he was done eating, so he excused himself and quickly washed his empty plate since he knew his parents would scold him if he didn’t, and walked back to his room, his head full of anxious thoughts.

After barely a few minutes of trying to work on his math, he realised that he would get nothing done with his mind racing like it was at the moment, so he packed his books into his bag and took out the laptop he had bought himself with the money he had made during his few part-time job shifts that he had been working since he started high school in order to get some pocket money, because he knew his parents didn’t really have the financial means to give him allowance every week. Once his computer was turned on, he proceeded to look up various colleges that he could attend in the fall, in the hopes that he might find a major that he would be interested in – or rather, choose the one that interested him most amongst the ones he liked.

That was the problem. Jinyoung wanted to do everything. He wanted to learn everything, wanted to understand everything that could fit into his mind. His thirst for knowledge was what pushed him to keep going forward, but now, it was exactly what held him back from making a choice. He didn’t know which choice would be the best for him. He wondered which choice he wouldn’t regret making when he would be older and looking back at his school days. What if I make the wrong decision? What if I have to start it all over again?

With his mind filled with these countless worries, Jinyoung continued filtering through various websites of colleges, mostly in Seoul. He wondered if he would ever be able to settle for one single program.

After over an hour of coursing through the various subjects Jinyoung was interested in, he decided to sleep on it once more, and let his racing head empty itself in order to succumb to a restless night of sleep.

 

The next day, Jinyoung woke up as usual. Ate breakfast as usual. Walked to school with Wonpil as usual. His days were getting more and more boring, more monotone. He figured if he wanted his life to change, it would have to be through his decision of college program, which only managed to add to the pressure of having to make a choice he wouldn’t regret later on.

At lunch, he joined his three friends at the cafeteria as usual, lunchbox in hand. They were discussing random matters that Jinyoung didn’t care enough about to participate much for. Obviously, after a while, he stopped listening, getting caught up in his own thoughts.

“Hey, Jinyoung,” Wonpil called out to him at one point, but Jinyoung couldn’t tell what his friends had been talking about.

He hummed in response, and Junhee replied from across the table, “where did you apply for college?”

Jinyoung could feel his face heat up a little, embarrassed that his friends had probably all sent their applications already, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to even decide where he wanted to go. “I don’t know,” he said, looking down at his bland sandwich. “I’ve been looking at a few colleges in Seoul.”

“Oh,” his other friend, Hyojong, piped up. “Junhee and I both applied in social sciences at Daegu and Wonpil’s going to Korea University in Korean literature…”

“Good for you, I’m glad you all found something you’re interested in,” Jinyoung smiled, although it was not truly genuine. After a beat of silence, he added, “I’m actually not sure what program I want to apply for either.”

“What are you talking about, Jinyoung-ah?” Hyojong laughed, which caused Junhee to join in. “Everyone knows you’re going to study to become a doctor! You’re like the top student anyways, you could definitely do it.”

Jinyoung sighed silently, “I don’t know… I don’t know what I want to do.”

“You can still change if you make the wrong choice for next year, right?” Wonpil tried to reassure him. It didn’t work. Jinyoung often told himself that too, that he could switch programs or even universities if things didn’t turn out as he wanted them to, but he was still scared. He was scared of making the wrong choice, but not knowing that choice was wrong until later on, until it was too late to change, until he was too far down the road to turn back around and follow another path. He was also afraid that he would end up spending years in college, as his mom had done too because she was too indecisive, just like him. In the end, she got a degree in business management, but ended up working as a cleaning lady. Jinyoung loved his mother, but he didn’t want to end up like her. He was scared that spending too much time in college would just mean he’d be digging himself a grave of debts that he would never be able to climb out of, or even that he’d indebt his family – they had enough financial troubles right now, he didn’t need to add his own on top of his parents’ worries.

“I know,” Jinyoung replied to his friend. “I’m still scared to make the wrong choice… I don’t want for a whole year to be wasted.”

“I get that,” Junhee agreed, “I think we’re all a bit scared. “But I’m sure you’ll make the right choice. Just trust yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

Jinyoung tried to let himself be comforted by his friends’ reassurance, but his own concerns drowned out their soothing words. His mind was racing once again, and the rest of the day passed by in a blur as he stayed wrapped up in his own head, barely registering that he was now home.

Jinyoung went to his room, his own legs taking him their almost against his will, as if he wasn’t the one controlling his body. He opened his laptop and typed up _Seoul National University_ in the search bar, his fingers dragging across the keyboard automatically.

Next thing he knew, he had applied to five different universities in different programs, but all of them were about science.

 _Guess I’ll have to work hard_ , he thought, sighing into the emptiness of his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expected this to be around 2k words and I ended up writing 4.5k... yikes
> 
> I haven't proofread this yet bc I'm lazy but enjoy!!
> 
> Alsoooo I know these first chapters have been pretty boring, but during the next chapter things will start to get interesting I promise!!


	4. The Roommate

_One year and one month before_

 

Today was Jinyoung’s moving day. His first experience outside of home, living alone – or rather, without his family, since he had a roommate that he had yet to meet – and he was ecstatic. He had never been able to experience living with someone he didn’t yet know for an extended period of time, and thus, he felt like he couldn’t say he had already truly experienced freedom and independence.

He was currently on the train, on the way to Seoul all alone. His parents wanted to come to say goodbye for now – until he could come back home, which was either at Christmas or maybe even only in the summer – but they both had to work, and frankly, Jinyoung was slightly glad to be able to live this on his own, without others to show him what to do. He wanted to learn on his own.

Jinyoung spent the entirety of the train ride with his nose buried in a book. He didn’t read books too often nowadays, but he had promised himself to finish this one before the end of summer vacations, so here he was, reading it on one of his last days free of the hastiness of school. It wasn’t a special book or anything, just a story about a dystopia and political problems and runaway teenagers. He appreciated reading about parallel universes; it helped him detach himself from reality for a moment, even if the world described in his book wasn’t ideal – but then again, nor was the world he lived in.

A few hours later, Jinyoung was nearly done with his book when a voice announced that they had arrived in Seoul. He hastily grabbed his luggage and stormed off the locomotive, making sure to head in the right direction in order to avoid getting lost. This wasn’t his first time visiting the big city, but it had been quite a while since the last time, and he knew no one here yet, so getting lost wasn’t an option. He ended up finding the exit, successfully hailed a taxi (it took him a bit of time, since he had only been in a cab once before and that was probably about ten years ago) and gave the driver his new address after hauling his things into the car. The ride wasn’t very eventful; the man tried to make small talk with Jinyoung, but awkward as he was, the conversation ended fairly quickly.

Once the cab had stopped outside of his building, it took Jinyoung a second to marvel at the mere height of it. He had seen the inside of his apartment in pictures, but he didn’t think that the outside of it could’ve been so majestic. Granted, from what he had seen on the way there, it wasn’t the most modern-looking building in Seoul, but it was still impressive in Jinyoung’s eyes. It took the cab driver’s sharp tone to break the daze he was in. He turned around to look at him and paid him, then proceeded to pull his things out, checking that there were none of his belongings left inside before closing the door and turning around, looking up at where the edifice reached not far into the sky. He chuckled, his excitement overflowing, and made his way inside. He took the elevator up, grateful that he wouldn’t have to climb flights of stairs with his luggage in tow. Once he reached his floor – it was the fourth floor, which wasn’t too high; Jinyoung probably wouldn’t die if he jumped from it in case there was a fire or something – he walked up to one of the brown doors adorned with a golden-colored 406 in the top part of it. He knocked, thinking that maybe his roommate had already arrived, but when he saw that no one seemed to be home yet, he glanced down at his paraphernalia and hesitantly grabbed it once again, making his way back down to the first floor in the elevator. Once there, he knocked on a door that he thought might be where the owner of the building was, and the door opened to show a small, elderly woman. Her eyes widened when she looked at Jinyoung, seeming to realise that he was new to the place.

“Hello, I am Park Jinyoung, one of the new tenants from room 406,” he presented himself, knowing that otherwise, the woman wouldn’t know who he was.

“Oh, hello,” the woman greeted back, and Jinyoung found out after a brief conversation that she was the landlord’s wife, and that the man in question was currently in one of the apartments to repair a broken showerhead. After he asked the woman if it was possible to get the keys to his new apartment, since his roommate apparently hadn’t arrived yet, but the woman seemed confused. “I thought he was already here?”

After a pause, Jinyoung replied, “I knocked on the door and no one answered. Maybe he’s out getting groceries or something?”

She nodded, but waved a hand in dismissal. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Here, I’ll give you the keys, you’ll need them anyway.”

Jinyoung smiled at her and bowed in gratefulness. They exchanged curt goodbyes and Jinyoung made his way back up to his new apartment, key in his right hand and luggage in his left, with his backpack still on his shoulders.

When he entered what he would call home for the next few months, Jinyoung couldn’t help but be happy. The walls were a pale beige colour and from what he could see, the main living area had a very homey feel to it. He couldn’t wait to live here and finally be independent from his parents, although it meant that his wallet would have to pay greatly – thankfully, his parents had agreed to send him allowance every month, but that still didn’t pay for every expense. Jinyoung walked to a hallway that was situated between the kitchen and the living room. He figured the two bedrooms and the bathroom must be there, and he was right. He opened the door to the first room on his left, but he saw that it was already taken, as the bed was made and a suitcase was lying on the floor in front of it; so his roommate must’ve been here after all. The thought made Jinyoung’s stomach clench. He didn’t always hate meeting new people, but he felt like the pressure was pretty strong right now; he absolutely had to get along with this new person, or else he would most likely hate the following year if he had to endure someone he disliked. He decided not to look around yet, as he didn’t want to feel like he was invading someone else’s privacy and he would rather get rid of all the unpacking he had to do before doing anything else.

So that’s how Jinyoung spent the next hour and a half: exploring his new room, which, from what he had seen, was fairly similar to his roommate’s, and unpacking his things until his suitcase was empty. Thankfully, the apartment was already nearly fully furnished; of course they would need to buy some things like kitchenware and maybe some ornaments, but Jinyoung thought it might be better to wait until his roommate was back. Shopping together might be a good opportunity to get to know each other better, so he doesn’t have to live with a complete stranger.

Once he was pretty much done unpacking, Jinyoung decided he should probably take a shower, so he brought his little travel bag and a towel with him to the bathroom. It took him a while to figure out how exactly the shower worked, but once he got it figured out, he managed to shower in peace, quietly humming a random song that was stuck in his head while rubbing shampoo into his hair. Usually, he liked to listen to music while he was in the shower, but he figured that his roommate might not like it – Jinyoung had no idea when he would arrive – and he had forgotten his phone on his bed anyways.

His shower was fairly brief, considering how tired he was. When he got out, he dried his hair off with a towel and stared at his own blurry image in the foggy mirror – he couldn’t see much since his glasses were on the counter and his contacts were in his travel bag. He tried to get rid of as much water as he could before wrapping the towel around his waist and putting on his glasses. When he realised that the condensed fog in his lenses wouldn’t go away anytime soon, he removed them once more and decided to wear his contact lenses instead. He didn’t particularly like poking his own eyes in order to see, but he figured it was better than not seeing at all. Plus, he knew his glasses made him look like a nerd, and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to make that impression on his roommate if he was going to meet him for the first time soon. Just as he thought that, he exited the bathroom.

His heart nearly busted from surprise when he heard a girlish squeal, and he turned to see a man his age – muscular body, chiseled features, button nose, wide doe eyes – _my roommate?_ The man was approaching him and, since the apartment really wasn’t that big, it took him about a second to reach Jinyoung. He extended his hand as if to introduce himself.

“I’m Jackson Wang, nice to meet you,” the man in question wiggled his eyebrows, a bright grin adorning his face. Jinyoung seemed to realise at once that he was only wearing a towel _on his lower body_ , so of course, his cheeks reddened as he scrambled to cover up his chest, in vain.

With his left hand staying in the middle of his chest, Jinyoung extended his right hand to shake Jackson’s. “Park Jinyoung,” a moment of silence, “if you don’t mind, I’ll just go put on clothes now.”

Jackson burst out laughing. “No need to cover up, Park Jinyoung! What you’ve got there deserves to be shown to the entire world!”

Jinyoung felt like Jackson was making fun of him, which he probably was. He wasn’t necessarily well-built, but he wasn’t out of shape either. Still, he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious whenever people looked at his body, because he could never figure out whether their stares were appreciative or judging, and to be frank, it was probably the latter. Jinyoung’s whole face flushed, and he ducked his head before bolting to his room.

It took him a good ten minutes to get dressed. He still felt ashamed that he had met his roommate for the first time while half-naked and had managed to embarrass himself. He gave his cheeks light taps as if to try getting rid of the pink tint they had. He was now wearing a plain black long-sleeved shirt and a simple pair of light blue jeans. He figured if his body was covered up enough, he might not get made fun of as much. He combed his hair and put on deodorant, but still, his cheeks were as red as before, and he briefly considered hiding away in his room to let himself die of embarrassment, but his stomach grumbled and he just couldn’t ignore it. He glanced at his phone; he had no missed calls or texts – he didn’t have a very active social life, and honestly, he was okay with it – and he noticed that it was already nearing nine in the evening, so he finally went back out into the main living area of his apartment. His roommate was standing in the kitchen, but he noticed that he wasn’t alone. There was a middle-aged woman sitting on the couch.

“Hi,” the woman said before Jinyoung could ask who she was. “I’m Sophia, Jackson’s mother.”

His eyes widened slightly and he felt even more pressured to make a good impression, so he bowed. “I’m Park Jinyoung.”

The woman smiled, “No need for all this politeness, as long as you treat my son well, we’ll get along. By the way, Jackson and I just went out to eat, we brought back some food…”

“Yes!” Jackson exclaimed, seeming very enthusiastic. “Jinyoung-ah, you’ll love it! It’s Chinese food!”

“Oh really?” Jinyoung said, now curious. He was a bit surprised by his new roommate’s blatant happiness, but he guessed he’d get used to it with time. He was also a bit irked by his confidence that Jinyoung was younger than him, calling him without honorifics as if they were best friends.

Jinyoung approached the kitchen now, eyeing the bags of takeout carefully. “There’s lo mein, egg rolls, dumplings… I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so we brought a lot.”

He was slightly taken aback by his roommate’s kindness. He didn’t even know Jinyoung, yet he made sure to bring back food just for him before even having met him. “You didn’t have to get all of this for me…”

“Then you can just eat what you want for now and tomorrow we’ll eat the leftovers together. Sounds good?” Jackson offered. Jinyoung could feel his stomach growling and he wasn’t really in the mood to go grocery shopping, so he agreed with a nod and Jackson handed him the boxes.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung said, truly meaning his words. He was a bit overwhelmed with the way the man was treating him, but he wouldn’t be the one to complain. He was glad to not be stuck with an asshole roommate.

“So,” Jackson started as Jinyoung put the plates down on the wooden dining table, taking a seat to finally eat. “Where are you from, Jinyoung-ssi?”

Jinyoung nearly snorted at the honorific. Jackson had already called him informally earlier, there was no use trying to be too polite now. Still he answered the question and directed it back at the other boy. He could bet that he wasn’t from Korea, since the way he talked indicated that he wasn’t a native Korean speaker.

“I’m from China,” he said proudly. From the corner of his eye, the younger could see that Jackson’s mother was grinning, seemingly happy with her son’s response. “I came to study here to learn Korean, since I already know English and Chinese.”

Jinyoung could tell that although his words seemed like he was boasting, he was simply stating the reason that he came here. To him, Jackson didn’t feel like that type of person. “That’s impressive,” he replied, and he could swear that Jackson’s cheeks got a bit pink at that. “What are you studying?”

Now, his blush was definitely visible. “I’m studying in business and management… I also came here because I heard JYP University had a really good business program. They definitely know what they’re doing, and hopefully, I will too by the time I get my degree.”

Jinyoung could relate. Frankly, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He didn’t even know for sure what he wanted to study, because although he does like learning about science and everything, he didn’t really know what he would do after.

Sophia smiled, staring at her son with an adoring expression etched into her facial features. “Of course, baby, then you’ll take over your dad’s business when he becomes too old to manage it on his own.”

Jinyoung’s curiosity was piqued at this, but he didn’t want to push a subject that Jackson might not want to talk about. Instead, he waited for his roommate to continue the conversation. “Yeah,” he simply agreed. Jinyoung was slightly disappointed not to learn more now, but he’d hate to feel like he was being nosy, so he still kept quiet. “Jinyoung-ssi, how old are you? I’m guessing we’re in the same year?”

“I’m 19, my birthday is on September 22nd. What about you, Jackson-ssi?”

Jackson squealed again, but this time, the sound brought a smile to Jinyoung’s face. “I’m older than you only by a few months, Jinyoung-ah!” he exclaimed, thrilled by the idea of being the same age as his roommate. “My birthday was on March 28th. Let’s be friends then!”

“Alright,” Jinyoung agreed, not reluctantly. “Let’s be friends.”

Sophia smiled at the two boys, happy that her son had finally seemed to find someone she thought he could trust. “See, mom? No need to worry about me while I’m away, I’ll have Jinyoungie to take care of me!”

Although Jinyoung internally cringed at the nickname, Jackson’s mom looked delighted. “I know, Sseun-ah, I’m glad you’ll have at least one friend here,” she said, teasingly, while her son whined about _of course I can make friends, what are you talking about, mom?_

As Jinyoung finished his plate of Chinese takeout, the three discussed over simple matters, and the two men settled on going furniture shopping tomorrow, since Sophia had a flight to catch early in the morning. Jinyoung wouldn’t complain; he appreciated the woman’s company, and she was obviously nice, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous around her, holding something back that he knew he wouldn’t have to if he was alone with Jackson. He was worried he would say the wrong thing and offend her and even potentially forbid her son from living with him. Jinyoung wasn’t necessarily attached to Jackson already, but he had to admit that he was definitely better than who he had imagined he would end up with as a roommate.

Jinyoung went to sleep, tucked neatly under his favourite soft blanket, head resting peacefully on his pillow. Jackson’s mother stayed in his room while he took the couch, and the latter resisted Jinyoung’s attempts to offer him his room for the night, insisting that the younger should rest since he had been traveling all day. It was true, and Jinyoung truly was exhausted, but he felt bad that his roommate had to sleep on the couch while he could enjoy the comfort of his new bed.

 

The following morning, Jinyoung woke up around nine, and for a second, he seriously questioned whether he had been kidnapped in his sleep or something, since he didn’t recognise his surroundings. His slight panic faded quite quickly however, as he remembered his arrival in the city and his encounter with Jackson.

He wasn’t surprised to find that Sophia was gone, but he was surprised to see that there was now a huge box in the living room, taking up much of the space. Jinyoung frowned and turned towards Jackson, who was currently eating lo mein out of a takeout box. “What’s that?” he said, pointing to the big cardboard box.

“Oh, that,” Jackson said, shrugging. “My mom bought us a TV as a welcome gift.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened significantly. With a box that big, the screen must be huge, and thus, it must have been expensive. “What?” he nearly screeched. “Why would she do that? It must have cost so much! How will I ever pay her back?”

Jackson seemed slightly taken aback by Jinyoung’s outburst, not expecting such a reaction. “Don’t worry about the cost or anything. Like I said, it was a gift.”

“But-“ Jinyoung started.

“No buts,” Jackson denied. “Gift. It’s a gift. And as you know now, my father does own a company. Money isn’t a problem.”

Jinyoung swallowed through the lump in his throat. He wasn’t usually ashamed of his parents’ financial situation, but hearing Jackson talking about money and expensive televisions so casually made him yearn for a different lifestyle than the one he had been forced to adopt all his life. Jinyoung never wanted to look ungrateful in his parents’ eyes for all that they gave him, but it was hard not to envy the ease that came with the financial comfort and luxury that Jackson seemed to be experiencing.

And suddenly, Jinyoung got scared that his new roommate might not be so great after all; he feared that he might resent Jinyoung for his lack of funds, or for his ignorance of the way richer people lived their lives.

“Stop overthinking,” Jackson said suddenly, dragging Jinyoung out of his head. “I don’t care about money. My parents like to give me gifts sometimes, but I won’t hold that against you or anything… And I like to share, so consider it a gift from my mom to the both of us.” He stopped, thinking over his next few words. “She really likes you, anyway.”

“She does?” Jinyoung was dumbfounded. He knew he couldn’t have made that bad of an impression, but hearing that she actually liked him was a surprise. He didn’t really go out of his comfort zone to accommodate Jackson, unlike the latter, who had bought him a ton of Chinese food just to make sure he would eat some of it. “I… I don’t know what to say. Tell her I said thanks.”

Jackson nodded, going back to munching on his food. “There isn’t much to eat, my mom bought some vegetables and snacks, but we should probably go grocery shopping unless we want to spend the rest of our lives eating Chinese takeout.”

“Chinese takeout for the rest of our lives doesn’t sound that bad,” Jinyoung joked.

Jackson snorted. “Of course, Jinyoung-ah,” he agreed. “Your taste buds would love that, but I’m not sure your organs would.”

Jinyoung smiled at the remark. “What, are you a health junkie?” Jackson’s positive response surprised him. He didn’t expect the man to actually be that kind of person, but he supposed it made sense, considering his body shape. He might be smaller than Jinyoung, but he was definitely a lot more well-built and muscular. Jinyoung found himself envying the elder slightly, but he quickly put those feelings away, knowing it was no use to dwell on his undesirable body shape.

The two boys spent the rest of the meal talking over wonton and fried rice. They learned a little bit more about each other, asking questions that they thought the other wouldn’t mind answering. They used the whole day to go shopping for things that they would need – groceries, mainly, but also kitchenware. Jackson even insisted that they get a mixer. To him, it was a necessity, because he absolutely had to eat his daily dose of vegetables and proteins, and the easiest way to do so was through shakes. He even promised Jinyoung to prepare at least two per week for him if he allowed Jackson to buy a mixer – it wasn’t really the younger’s decision, since Jackson insisted to pay for it, but he went along with it anyway. Jinyoung also learned that Jackson was a fencer when the latter jokingly tried to attack him with a celery while in the grocery store. He would be trying out for the fencing team once college started, and from the amazing skill he had showed with his vegetable, Jinyoung also jokingly assured him that there was nothing to worry about – he would surely be taken.

And thus, within a single day, the two young men became friends. They didn’t know it yet, but it would become a strong friendship; one that would last for years on end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok first of all IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. I've been so occupied with school lately. Finals are approaching quickly (too quickly), so I've been writing this chapter very slowly, but tonight I was feeling calm and I was feeling good so I found the will and inspiration to write.
> 
> Also I'm so sorry, I knew I said things would get interesting in this chapter and this is just a shitty filler, but I promise the real fun is coming soon, Jaebum will be here if not in the next chapter, then in the one after that. I'm not entirely sure yet, since I always seem to write more than I originally plan to (I ramble too much oops). This chapter is also kind of short, I'm sorry :(
> 
> ALSO VERY IMPORTANT, stream Eclipse and Spinning Top tomorrow!!! (can't wait for it to be released oml!!!!)


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